Silver Sorrow and Golden Joy
by SeventhSpanishAngel12
Summary: Harry Potter is at a crossroads in his life, and now must face trial by fire in order to determine exactly who he is…and why.
1. Default Chapter

Harry Potter Fan fiction (so people, I no own!!!)

Disclaimer: err, see above. The world, characters, etc, all belong to another. I am only

borrowing them. The plot is the only thing I own, along with any

characters I choose to introduce. I am making no profit, it is intended just

for entertainment.

Warnings: Who knows? Will start out angst, will undoubtedly get darker later. Rated for dangerous situations involving pain/adult themes, and angst.

Summary: Harry Potter is at a crossroads in his life, and now must face trial by fire in

order to determine exactly who he is…and why.

…so, deep breath….here we go.

**SILVER SORROW AND GOLDEN JOY**

**Chapter One: And here we go again…**

_**So here we are again,**_

_**Let me tell you all goodbye,**_

**_No-more you'll bring the rain,_**

**_No-more I'll have to cry_**

Summer holidays. _Again_.

The tenacity it showed in once again appearing was unbelievable. With the sheer force of Harry's reluctance he felt it really shouldn't have come. There was no time of the year he hated quite so much.

He was alone. _Again_.

One certainly couldn't count the Dursley's as company. Or, in reflection, even really human.

Harry propped his head in his hands and stared out of his window-or more precisely through the slits of the boards barring his window- and fixed his gaze on the sprinkling of stars.

This was what he had been reduced to. Locked in this tiny-_go on_, he goaded himself, _accept it, locked in this cell_. Locked up like a criminal staring out at a few glimmering stars that seemed to mock him more every night with his imprisonment!

Locked up by everyone, especially Dumbledore, locked up for his own safety-never mind the safety of everyone else- kept alone and grieving all this time!

_Stay safe Harry…Keep in the house…We'll see you come time for Hogwarts…Don't worry…_

Damn them! Damn them all! He cursed silently, eyes narrowing angrily, no longer seeing the stars, but lost inside his bitterness. Harry couldn't deal with his relatives right now, couldn't deal with fat, smirking Dudley… or portly, furious Uncle Vernon fists clenching in anger and fear…Aunt Petunia, lips pursed together and her eyes narrowed in dislike, watching him from the corner of her pale eyes wherever he went.

Was it any wonder he remained in isolation? How could they…how could they just live and gossip and hate just as passionately and as blindly as before, living their illusion of normality, when he, Harry had lost all hope of a loving future? Or maybe of a future at all?

Shadows bathed his room in darkness, and the sickly glow from his broken lamp threw weak light over his upturned face, where he knelt lost in his thoughts.

Thin as he was, and pale from lack of sun and proper food, with dark, messy and untameable locks, the so-called famous Harry Potter admitted to himself he looked rather like a vampire.

An unhappy vampire. An unhappy, _unhealthy_ vampire.

A soft _hoot _from the corner, combined with the soft rustle of feathers served to draw Harry's attention from the implacable stars to Hedwig's concerned amber stare. He smiled softly at her, his attention, for the moment, successfully diverted.

"You're right girl", he murmured, "I've still got you, right?"

Another _hoot_ caused him to smile softly.

"Yeah, I've still got you."

He turned his eyes back to the scattering of stars perceptible through the slats.

-…-

It was going to be a long summer. Of course, in retrospect, it was _always_ a long summer when one was locked in Privet Drive. Especially when one was locked in with only the occasional half- terrified half murderous attention from his _family_.

His lip curled unconsciously. There was no way he viewed his relations as _family, _that fragile and beautiful ideal he carried in his heart- or had, until the death of his beloved Godfather.

_Sirius_… Harry tore his mind away from the dark, screaming abyss the name provoked, back to the book he had open on his knee-Defence and Offence-What to do when the end comes. A gift from Hermione for his birthday

( rather in poor taste, but admittedly ironic) that he had been attempting to finish for days now. Informative, sure, but Harry fully believed he had finally found a book that Mr. Binns would have had trouble digesting. (Hermione, however, probably already had cliff notes for him-she was fanatical about study and was only trying to help)

Despite the book's complete and utter lack of allure, Harry had been fighting his way through the large text, working over what he read and memorising what he could.

Really, what else was there to do?

And so Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Was-Locked-Up-While-Everyone-Else-Was-Not, spent his summer days in a hot, cramped room, alternating between periods of heavy thought and misery, and feverish bouts of industry, working over his textbooks and homework. (Except his potions work; this simply received a dark, sinister glare)

After the sudden delivery of his birthday presents, which had included a picture of Snape's face taken after one of the twins pranks (a gift from said twins) and which still caused him inordinate amounts of amusement, Harry had been effectively cut off from all things unnatural.

And it was really beginning to drag.

Sure, he had his books, his things, even his wand, but there are only so many hours of a day in which one can research the properties of foreign pain-killers, or practice the correct wand movements to set someone on fire.

There was even, sadly, a limit of time one could stare at the horrified and humiliated expression of a certain potions master…though it **did** take quite awhile…

With a loud sigh, Harry tossed the book he had been staring at blankly into the corner, fed up. With the loud bang there was a loud smash of breaking china somewhere downstairs as a result.

Not even this further evidence of the edginess of his high strung relations (this time his aunt) could placate Harry.

He'd lost Sirius, hadn't he, lost him out of his own stupidity. Wasn't it enough he suffered here in this hole every summer? Wasn't it enough he never really ate enough, although his serve come mealtimes had definitely improved thanks to the well-timed intimidation of Harry's friends?

Apparently not.

Suddenly, Harry needed _out_. He suddenly needed those illusive stars, a single breath of fresh air. Recklessly, angrily, he leapt up. Ignoring the ache of muscles long unused, Harry strode determinedly over to the door and gave it a shove.

Nothing happened.

Okay, so he had felt locked in all summer, but he had chosen seclusion up here himself til now. But to find he was literally locked in…

He glared at it angrily. He slammed his right fist into the wood hard enough to bruise.

Still nothing.

Furiously, Harry opened his mouth, threw caution to the winds, and yelled his uncle's name. Loudly.

He had accepted his confinement because at first he couldn't care about anything. But right now Harry had had quite enough. He needed to be out, and although his relatives might prattle on about his so called safety and those blasted Freaks who mustn't have need to call, he knew they were simply keeping him out of the way.

"WHAT IS IT BOY!!" Uncle Vernon's voice rang up the stairs, heavy with fury.

Harry was extremely unimpressed.

It was Saturday, mid-morning, a brand new day, and even if he was alone and miserable, he was damn well going to be miserable and alone _outside_.

Heavy thumping sounds announced his uncle's pending arrival.

The locks leapt back on his door with the force thrown behind them, and the door flew open accompanied by Hedwig's shriek of alarm.

"What do you _want_?!" His uncle hissed furiously, eyes darting around as if expecting wizards to suddenly pop out of his nephews closet. He calmed himself with a visible effort.

Harry glared at him, trying unsuccessfully to appear calm and unmoved.

"I'm going out."

This statement was met with at first a blank look of incomprehension and then building alarm.

"What! Outside? But, but what of those fre-friends of yours, whatever they're called, the lot with the bowler hat and the weird hair?" He spluttered, clearly terrified by the notion of wizards coming to his home if something happened to the brat.

Harry waited semi-patiently for his uncle to draw breath.

He'd been at first sardonically amused then annoyed when his uncle had routinely dropped by his room to ensure he sent his message to the order. Or, in his uncle's opinion, those freaks.

He'd even loosened the boards so they would part enough to allow Hedwig through, with a little manoeuvring.

…All for himself, of course, not for green-eyed, rebellious, impertinent Harry, who was sulking and wasn't it _just_ like him?…

"I'm allowed outside. I'm _going _outside. Or the order will be by to check on me."

Hardly a subtle threat, but Harry needed to be out, and so he watched as Vernon paled and his eyes resumed their nervous twitching from window to closet.

"You're allowed out," he gritted, "for a _little_ while, mind -but don't you go anywhere near Dudley!"

Harry wanted to laugh. Go near Dudley, when all his life he had strived to ignore him?

"I won't," he said, settling his expression to calmness. His uncle continued to watch him (and the closet) holding the door in one hand and still blocking the entrance like an enraged bull.

"So…can I go now?" He prompted, checking with one hand that his wand was close to hand.

His uncle stared at him a moment longer.

"Don't you cause any trouble, boy," he warned finally.

Harry nodded impatiently, and pushed past and leapt down the stairs easily, totally ignoring his aunt in the kitchen and was out the front door in seconds.

The sunlight was incredibly bright after days of being stuck in his dark, musty room, and pausing for a moment on the doorstep of number 4 Privet Drive, Harry drew in a breath of fresh, clean air with bright relief.

He hadn't realised, so lost in his own mind, how much had missed the outside world.

The world of blue skies, sun, and the scent of freshly mown grass.

_Sirius_, he thought, _I wish you were here with me_.

Bright green eyes dimmed for a moment before he lifted his head resolutely and marched down the footpath past the wilted flowers and onto the footpath, determined to thoroughly ignore whatever watcher he was certain was 'protecting' the house.

_Forget them_, he thought angrily, _I don't need th**e**m_.

Hands in his pockets, ( one hand firmly around his wand ) the Boy-Who-Lived wandered aimlessly away from the house he had called home for eleven years without a single drop of the warmth usually associated with such a term. With Sirius gone, it didn't matter anyway. Everyone he loved was hurt in some way, and considering what Dumbledore claimed he had to do, well, maybe it was better if he worked alone. Except, maybe, Ron and Hermione, he didn't think he could push them away.

Lost in thought, the tall, pale boy wandered away in the bright, summer sunshine, treading mindlessly over flowers carefully pruned and wilting from heat.

He didn't notice the dark, flowing form that watched him from bright, light-devouring eyes and hurried along behind him, keeping pace from the shadows cast be fences and dying flower bushes.

Neither did Tonks, who followed, concealed beneath an invisibility cloak, on the opposite side of the street.

**AN:** Impending doom, there's nothing quite like it…


	2. then there was fire

Harry Potter Fan fiction (so people, I no own!!!)

Disclaimer: err, see above. The world, characters, etc, all belong to another. I am only

borrowing them. The plot is the only thing I own, along with any

characters I choose to introduce.

Warnings: Who knows? Will start out angst, will undoubtedly get darker later.

Summary: Harry Potter is at a crossroads in his life, and now must face trial by fire in

order to determine exactly who he is…and why.

**Chapter two: And then there was fire… **

_**So let the fire burn, please let the fire burn,**_

_**Burn away all of the world tonight,**_

**_I've got nothing left to live for, nothing left to learn_**

_**And no reason now, to fight…**_

So Harry made his way down the street -further and further away from home- totally unaware that he was being followed.

Well, by the strange shadowy thing, anyway.

He couldn't miss Tonks, who in typical Tonks fashion stumbled her way along opposite Harry with all the grace of a drunk elephant. He did give her points though, for not cursing out loud when she impacted head on with number seven's mailbox and somehow managed to tumble completely over it without breaking it, or losing her cloak. That _was_ impressive.

It was also the stunt that convinced Harry beyond any shadow of a doubt that it was Tonks following him. Only someone with an intimate, first-name relationship with the ground could have managed so gracefully.

_But really, did the order expect me to not notice?_ _I really hope not…_

So some slack should be cut for Harry, who could possibly notice small, sneaky followers when more than adequately entertained by loud, un-sneaky ones?

He left Privet Drive and headed away-vaguely to the park-enjoying the sunshine and somehow managing not to laugh outright at his entourage.

_I should get out more often… _

It was a warm, sleepy Saturday. There was no hint, no clue at all, that strange and dangerous happenings would soon occur. Predictably, of course, centred around the youth with messy hair, almost unnaturally green eyes, and a peculiar lightning shaped scar.

Changes occur every day, every day is a change in itself, and at the end of it nothing is ever the same.

Of course, most of these evolutions are small and gradual. Little life lessons.

Then there are the other changes, the big, dangerous, life changing and often endangering changes.

The park wasn't quite deserted, but either way Harry didn't care. Anyway, given a couple of minutes to notice the dangerous _criminal _Harry Potter, most of the kids would retreat whimpering home. All to the good. The less people around, the less innocents to be hurt. Plopping onto one of the logs that made up the play area's boundary, he stretched out his legs and admired the warm, sleepy day with a sigh, using the movement to cast a quick scan around him for anything unusual.

Like dementors.

Tonks seemed to have hit neutral, and wherever she was, was actually using some stealth. An amused green eye rolled to the side, slitted against the bright sky. Almost on cue, a girl shrieked nearby and tangled herself up in her own feet before fleeing.

He moved smoothly despite weeks of constant inactivity, wand arm shifting slightly to face the disturbance and caught only a glimpse of muddy brown braids flying from a tiny head disappearing rapidly around the corner.

He was impressed by her speed, but really, he didn't look _all _that scary did he, despite the Dursley's claims?

This from a youth that admitted he looked like a vampire.

Harry shifted back into a more comfortable position slowly. He was on edge. He did have every right to be, considering that the darkest wizard of all time was trying to kill him and those opposing him were dropping like flies. There was a rustle to his right and Harry shot forward, dropped and rolled, coming up facing the sound a short distance away, suddenly wondering if something else had driven the girl to flee.

He stared blankly into bright, empty sunlight.

"Uhh, Tonks?" He beseeched quietly.

"Harry, don't move." It was Tonk's voice, _and it was becoming from behind him_.

Ignoring her unintentionally, Harry's head raised slowly, and he peered over the log he had been sitting on. _I am never coming to this park again, I swear, this place calls trouble._

His wand was held painfully tight within his hand, and he raised it alongside his jaw.

He stared down, and froze. He was staring at a, a, _what the hell?_

It was shadowy and black, and every sense snapped on alert. _Pettigrew! _Then common sense kicked in, for this…shadow thingy… in no way resembled that murdering, traitorous rat. He stared at it, totally dumbfounded, while Tonks cursed behind him, jumping forward as if to tear the two apart.

Then Harry made the mistake of meeting the creatures eyes.

They _burned_, they drew him in, there were flames deep within it's eyes, that seemed to be the source of the allure, the light in darkness that drew the light in and _changed_ it.

It was at this point that Harry knew he'd done something very, very stupid. He reached forward a trembling hand, inwardly screaming at himself but unable to stop, and his fingers lightly grazed the inky dark fur of the creature.

It's eyes blazed brighter/darker yet, with sadness?anger?joy? For an endless moment, the youth and the magic stayed locked together, riveted, and then without a word, sound, or even flash, both disappeared, as if they had never been.

Tonks thudded into the ground painfully, one hand outstretched as she stared _through_ the spot the boy and the animal had occupied. She blinked, swore almost in a wail, and whipped out her wand, muttered something and then she too, was gone.

Not too far away, the wards of Privet Drive hummed on undisturbed. It was a warm sleepy Saturday, just verging on lunchtime. A sleepy looking boy strolled easily onto his lawn and yawned in the sunlight before grunting and disappearing inside again. No-one knew that the Boy-Who-Lived had disappeared-again-or that very soon the area would be flooded with aurors, all searching for clues.

…-…

Harry blinked back to awareness, then bolted upright with a groan of horrified disbelief as he took in the darkness surrounding him. _What on earth have I done now?_

One moment park, next moment…

He tightened his grip on his wand, then stared at it, disbelieving his own eyes.

He still had his wand, then. Well, with it, totally disregarding the Minister's rules of course, he had a chance of getting out of here. _Wherever here is… _And what of the dark magic thing, that had resembled-slightly-a small fox? Had it simply been used to bring him here? He cautiously rose to his feet, fully expecting Death Eaters or Voldemort to spring out at him at any second. His eyes adjusted, and he thought, that perhaps he saw light, somewhere to his left. With the equivalent of a mental shrug, he shifted towards it, holding his wand in one hand, and the other outstretched for obstacles.

_How could I have been so stupid? _He thought bitterly. _Had to look, didn't I, had to touch it like a right fool._ Had to totally ignore Tonks, who has to know way more than him of what the thing had been. And now look at where I am, stuck in the dark in Merlin-knows-where.

He thudded against something he couldn't see, biting back the curse that sprang immediately to his lips. He froze, looking around to see if anyone or anything that might just be hiding in wait had heard the impact. He strained to hear, but all he could hear was his own heartbeat thudding in his ears. He reached out cautiously and felt around carefully, his fingers tracing a large, solid outline-and rattled against the bolts on one side. Again he froze. _A door_, he thought wryly. So much for the light he'd thought he'd glimpsed. He shrugged mentally, then holding his breath, slid the bolts back towards himself.

The din was incredible. He threw caution to the winds, flinging himself blindly through the door, slamming it shut with a scream of tortured metal. Panic filled him with the sound of his own heartbeat. _Breathe, Harry_. _It's okay, just breathe_.

_Yeah right! Not even the dead could have missed that! _

But then…why wasn't there death eaters swarming him? Where was that high, cruel laugh? The mocking taunts?

Their was nothing but silence. Harry's eyes widened. What if Voldemort _wasn't_ here?

What if this had absolutely nothing to do with him? He scoffed, scrambling to his feet, despite everything feeling happier than he had in awhile. He was doing something, his blood was pounding and despite it, it was brilliant. Flushed, he turned brilliant eyes around again. Suddenly alive, filled with purpose, Harry set out again, even if it was to walk into a wall. Rubbing his nose, he glared at the blackness and lifted his wand slightly. Everything was silent, the kind of silent found in a tomb where the air is heavy and doesn't move.

"Lumos," he whispered softly. A soft white light blossomed from his wand tip obediently, casting a soft white glow around Harry. He stared at what he could see, shadows flickering into strange shapes around his circle of light. He hesitated, then brightened the light, until he could see everything in the…room.

Okay, not room. Hall. Huge, colossal, enormous hall. It made Hogwarts hall look _small_. He was standing at the beginning of the long passage that led down into what appeared to be a circular room.

He looked down, where an incredibly dusty carpet stretched away. He raised his eyes to the unlit torches lining each wall, intercepted every couple of metres by dusty squares that just might have once been tapestries. He dropped his eyes again in astonishment, scraping his sneaker sideways, creating s puff of dust and the faintest trace of colour. _Ten galleons this was once red_. Suddenly he knew exactly where he was. Well, okay, not where, exactly, for all he knew he was on the moon, but this was definitely a throne room.

He began to walk forward, awed by the sheer size of his surroundings, his progress silent thanks to the still-thick carpet beneath his feet and a handy inch-thick layer of dust. He held his wand high and scanned everything he could see, his fear lost for a moment in amazement.

Even coated in what must have been the dust of centuries, this place was incredible.

Ignoring an internal voice telling him not to touch anything, he reached out a hand and traced his fingers over the dull metal that made up an knight's armoured breast plate. The suits of armour along the hall shifted as one, bringing a lance down to bear before them. Leaping back, eyes huge, Harry held his breath and stared into the shadows behind the visor that made up the knights eyes. _Yeah, brilliant move…_

Nothing else happened. _Okaaaay. Freaky_. _No more touching anything, Harry_.

Still with his eyes trained on the knight Harry took several slow, cautious steps back and to the right. Releasing his held in breath with a rush, he shook his head wryly.

_Really, Potter, you almost deserved to be skewered. _He cast the armour one last wary look, then slunk past and continued following the carpet. _Yellow brick road, except, well, not. _He was nearly at the end of the hall now, and no suits of armour had jumped out at him, which was good. He really, really wished Ron and Hermione were with him, Ron distracting him with comments like-_wow, bloody awesome, _and Hermione babbling on and on in a breathless fashion about exactly were they could be, and what an important find it was, all intercepted by worried comments about why they were there, and how they should be really, really careful.

He shook his head. They weren't here, and it was best to pay attention to his surroundings as best as he could. _And not on the underage magic I've just used…_

Cautiously, but with a great deal of curiosity, Harry peered out at the huge circular room he had come to. He first scanned for other exits, because if there _were_ Death

Eaters running about trying to kill him, he really didn't want to be trapped. Then all of these sensible and smart thoughts flew away and took up residence on a deserted island. Because his eyes had been drawn to the dais in the centre, where the-uh, golden glowing thing-happily floated. It was _beautiful_, whatever it was, all wrapped up in brilliant light that hid it from eyes. He was unconsciously pacing towards it, entranced in a similar way as he had been to the shadowy creature.

Which made sense, as the two were somewhat related and Harry didn't know that way above him, wound about a support beam, said shadowy creature was watching him intently, swaying as if caught in a breeze.

Completely ignoring the riches and treasure he was quite literally wading through, Harry had eyes only for the golden light and the mystery within it. As he reached out, and in retrospect he should have known better, the light flared incandescently and seemed almost to be _purring_. As his hand penetrated the light, high above the dark creature cried out in equal amounts pain and ecstasy, unwinding from it's perch and plummeting towards youth and light.

Eyes wide, Harry touched the centre, which morphed rapidly from book, orb, and something too beautiful to be named, then beneath his hand was silky fur and something twisted to bring shining, reflective eyes to meet his own.

And then the world exploded into flame.


End file.
